The Charmed Life of Claire Young
by pinkquartz
Summary: It's been years since Claire has returned to La Push, and now she's a young woman with a big secret of her own. Quil has spent the last few years in aguish without his imprint. Claire quickly learns the hard way that she's not the only magical one. With a new witch in town, the Cullens' return, and a growing pack of wolves, La Push becomes a sudden target for magical disturbances.
1. A Witchy Beginning

Hi everyone! I had an old account on here with a version of this story from years ago. It's been stuck in my head for years and I wanted to continue it.  
Read along for witchy adventures of Claire, impending romance, and a whole lot of drama (it'll get a little dark).

I don't own Twilight, obviously!

**Please read and review!**

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_Los Angeles, CA 12:32AM: Claire_

"Yep, I just got the last of it out," she said, pinning her phone against her ear and her shoulder as she struggled with her keys against the lock of an old wooden door.

She gave the door a bump with her hip and finally stumbled into her mother's one bedroom apartment. She threw her purse down on the seat of a dining room chair her mother had gotten from an antique market and let out a sigh.

"Quil, gimme a second, okay?" she said before setting her phone and keys down on the kitchen counter.

Her mother and little sister were curled up on opposite ends of the couch, their feet overlapping. Their fat orange tabby, Mango, stared at her with big yellow eyes and gave a soft meow in hello.

Claire unfolded a thick throw blanket hanging off the back of the couch and threw it over the two of them. There was a dish with bound white sage burning slowly on the coffee table in front of them. The table was scattered with different colored crystals, face-up tarot cards, and a half-finished bottle of cheap cabernet. They couldn't have fallen asleep too long ago.

She pushed her mother's thick, chocolate curls aside from her face and tucked a pillow under Tessa's head to catch the slight stream of drool from her parted lips.

Claire scratched Mango behind his ears before scooping up the bottle of wine and Tessa's used glass. She gave herself a hefty pour and headed into the bedroom, tucking her phone back under her ear, "Alright, I am armed with a glass of wine and fully prepared to hear about your date."

She took a large gulp of her wine before sprawling out on her mother's full size bed, a slight smile crossing her lips as Quil's deep voice came through the phone. Absentmindedly, with a small wave of her hand, the scented candles sitting candles sitting atop her mother's dresser lit up into flame. She listened to him talk about his day at the auto body shop and the subsequent date at a bar in town. Flirting had led to plans for a couple drinks with a girl named Chelsea, whose brakes he had changed. Apparently the date ended before midnight and there didn't seem to be a plan for a second one.

"I cannot wait to give the best friend speech at your wedding," Claire chuckled into the phone, "Quil, you know I love you more than anyone, but I gotta sleep so I can drive tomorrow. Can't wait to meet Chelsea. Send her all my love."

After saying goodnight, she pulled off her jeans and threw on an old t-shirt. She got up to crack open the window, letting in the cool ocean breeze.

In the morning, they were leaving behind their years in Los Angeles and heading back to the res in Washington.

At 23, she had gotten a job out of college as a copywriter for a small clothing company. Her bachelor's in English Lit obviously had done wonders. They were letting her continue to freelance even though she was heading back to La Push. She had just finished moving the last of her things out of her three bedroom apartment in east LA, kissing her two quirky roommates goodbye and heading back west towards the ocean.

She, her little sister, and her mother had said goodbye to La Push almost 10 years ago. Her father had found out what they were despite years of carefully kept secrets. After an ugly, drawn-out divorce, they were packing up an old Forerunner with cardboard boxes and leaving the Makah reservation where they lived with her father. They had a quick stint of living in her grandmother's house, but shortly after were heading to California for good.

She remembered standing in her Auntie Emily's yard in Quil's old sweatshirt, sporting a bad haircut and big, teary brown eyes as she said goodbye to everyone. Even though her mother insisted the fresh start for the three of them would be an adventure, La Push had been the only home she'd ever known. Quil's devastated face as they drove away that day had been etched into her memories.

But her grandmother had fallen ill in the recent years. Auntie Emily was struggling to take care of her on her own, so her mother made the rather impulsive decision to move back to Washington after so long. She had insisted Claire and Tessa stay and continue to build their lives. But, despite all the obvious reasons to stay, like her job, her friends, her cute east-side apartment, Claire felt the pull. She couldn't deny that there was something calling her back to La Push.

Claire wrapped herself in the comforter and waved her hand in the general direction of the burning candles sitting atop the dresser. They went out suddenly, embers burning and smoking at the very tip if the wicks. The whole room smelled of melted wax.

Their magic was something they'd kept secret for many years. Claire had seen the countless times it had pushed people away; her father, a handful of her mother's boyfriends who had accidentally stumbled upon she or Tessa casting a spell from their grimoire, the neighbor that inexplicably moved out after seeing the levitating boxes begin to unpack themselves in their very first LA apartment.

Her mother, Molly, had done her best to educate she and Tessa in their craft. On the morning of Claire's thirteenth birthday, they had awoken to Mango lying stiff and cold next to his food bowl. Claire had collapsed to her knees, scooped up his body, and wished with all her might that he would come back. Suddenly the air was cold, Mango was flicking his tail back and forth in annoyance from being squeezed too tightly, and her mother's jaw dropped before exclaiming, "No _f*cking_ way. Your first act of witchcraft was necromancy?!"

That year her birthday present was a large spellbook; her grimoire.

Mango hadn't had any health problems since.

She hadn't seen Quil in years. With school work, and life, they just hadn't been able to find the time. But every day, she missed him. She couldn't remember a time in her life without Quil and was in constant amazement that their friendship had lasted the distance between them. Although she couldn't wait to see him, their FaceTimes and phone calls made it easy to hide the fact that she was getting more and more comfortable with her magic. He could never find out. She didn't even want to think of the aftermath.

The wine she had drank made her fingers feel warm and let sleep creep up on her easily. Claire's eyes felt heavy as she pulled her long, dark waves into a bun and settled in under the thick duvet.

She wasn't sure what returning to her old home would mean. She was a young woman now; a practiced witch. But like her mother always said, it would be yet another adventure for the Young women. They had never been short of those.


	2. Lone Wolf

Here we have Chapter 2, with a little more backstory on the pack and the current state of affairs in Forks/La Push.  
Writing from Quil's voice is so fun. Next chapter is when they'll meet again!

**Please read & review!**

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_La Push, WA 1:02AM: Quil_

After hanging up the phone, Quil made a beeline to the fridge and pulled out two beers. He ran a hand through his dark buzz cut and threw one over his shoulder. Jacob, who had just walked in without making a sound audible to human ears, caught it reflexively and popped it open, taking a long gulp that emptied the entire can.

"When are you going to tell her what you actually did tonight?" Jacob said, flopping down on the couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He looked at Quil with an inquisitive eye, but couldn't help but smile at the first sign of real happiness on his best friend's face that he had seen in years.

"Sure, I'll call Claire back right now and tell her we chased a bunch of bloodsuckers down to Port Angeles," Quil smirked as he flopped down next to Jacob. His broad, bare chest was still glistening from the slight drizzle of rain that had started to fall as they returned to La Push limits. The couch gave a groan underneath the two large, bronzed men as they fidgeted to get comfortable after a long day of patrol.

"She'll be home tomorrow. You're gonna have to tell her at some point, is all I'm saying," Jacob said with a slight shrug.

"It's not like I didn't go on a date with Chelsea tonight," Quil sighed, taking a long drink of his beer.

The story he had told Claire was mostly true.

He worked in an auto body shop in the town right outside of the res with Paul. Chelsea had come in with a bad pair of brakes, and a little small talk led to a couple of beers after his shift. There was just one small detail he left out when talking to Claire. He got a call from Jacob saying there was a pair of bloodsuckers running through the La Push perimeter. Citing an emergency, Quil quickly said goodbye to Chelsea, ran to the edge of the forest, and phased. After sprinting out of the bar without looking back, he considered his chances of a second date to be _pretty_ low.

But he knew Jacob was right. Claire had been gone for years now, and it made every part of him ache in a way he didn't think was possible.

He wanted her to have a normal life in Los Angeles. Holding back from telling her about the pack, about the many creatures that crawled around the forests of Washington, and especially about being his imprint were ways of protecting her. But now, she wasn't the little girl who wanted to collect shells by the beach or throw princess-themed birthday parties. Somehow, right under his nose, she had turned into a young woman with a ex-boyfriends, a degree, a job, and a whole life she had built for herself. The secrets would have to spill somehow. There just wasn't exactly a good time to drop these kinds of bombs.

"I know it hasn't been easy," Jacob said. The entire pack had seen Quil struggle for years without his imprint. The first few months after Claire had left for California, Quil had phased uncontrollably. Jacob had seen his best friend's happy-go-lucky attitude slowly fade. Quil had always been the guy who saw the silver lining in every situation, the guy who showed up with a case of beer and a toothy grin when you had a bad day. But he had become slightly harder, more detached. When your imprint's protection was your number one priority and you couldn't physically be there to protect her, it was understandable that Quil had done what he could to manage the loss.

"Definitely not easy, but it had to be done," Quil said, running a hand over his face.

And that was true. Leaving the pack for California was never an option, and it wouldn't have been the best thing for Claire. Quil knew Claire had to grow up on her own, just like he knew he had a life and responsibilities in La Push that he needed to maintain.

The pack had changed in the last few years. After Jacob left for Alaska when the Cullen's relocated, Leah became the new acting alpha until Jacob's return. Seth was her second in command, and Quil had risen the ranks to Third. Sam had stepped down to start aging and growing a family with Emily. Things had been relatively quiet until recently, the pack falling into its new order.

For the first time in almost two decades, The Cullen's had returned to Washington and moved into their old home in Forks. Despite the coven of vampires keeping to themselves, their presence had created quite a disturbance. Not only were more young members of the tribe phasing into shape-shifters than before, but they had more bloodsuckers running through the area. Nothing serious, but the pack was kept busy chasing off vampires who seemed to be curious enough to try and steal a peek at the hybrid girl everyone was whispering about.

From what Jacob had passed along to the pack, the Cullen's had no intention of setting down roots in Forks again. They were simply passing through, figuring out their next move, and indulging Nessie's desire to once again see the town she was born in.

It was no secret, being privy to each other's thoughts when they had phased, that Jacob and Nessie's relationship had taken a romantic turn in the last few months. The amount of times he had re-lived Jacob and Nessie's first kiss through pack mentality made Quil want to stab himself in the eye.

Multiple times.

He was happy for his best friend, but the escalation of Jacob and Nessie's relationship had just been a reminder that his own imprint was so far away. It wasn't jealousy for what they had, it was just a heavy absence of Claire.

He loved what he and Claire had. Over the years of long distance, Quil had shifted from protective big brother to best friend. In his role as big brother, he took care of anything Claire had needed. He spoiled her rotten, tried to make her smile as much as he could. The other pack members with imprints told him the transition to friendship would happen seamlessly, and it had.

Now, Claire took care of him just as much as he took care of her. Their relationship, even if it was composed mostly of texts, calls, and FaceTimes, had become much more equal. Claire had kept Quil grounded when his mother passed away, he had picked up her pieces when her long-term boyfriend cheated on her, and they had supported each other through all the turmoil in-between. They were never short on laughs. And hell, Claire had just revised his dating profile to help him get "picked up in the algorithm", whatever that meant.

Quil knew the bond they had was strong, but couldn't help but feel apprehensive. Would it change with her being back in La Push? What would it be like to see her for the first time, after so long?

Seth came crashing through the front door, carrying a stack of hot pizza boxes and breaking Quil away from his thoughts as he bellowed, "I'm fucking STARVING. You can thank me later."

"Just let yourself in," Quil said, shaking his head and chuckling. The small apartment he shared with Paul had become somewhat of a haven for the pack when they were off patrol. He regularly had a fridge stocked with beer, barren cupboards from all the food the pack devoured, and a minimum of two people sleeping on his couch.

"Hey, dude, leave some beer for the rest of us," Jacob said, getting up to meet Seth in the kitchen. Seth had just chugged a beer and cast the empty can aside with a satisfying "ah!".

Quil took the opportunity to sprawl his legs out in Jacob's empty seat. He took a long drink of his beer, setting the empty can down before picking up his phone to text Claire.

_Tomorrow. 5:45pm. The park on Alder Street. __You know the one. This is your first clue._

He had no idea what was in store for him with Claire's homecoming. All he knew was that he couldn't wait to see her face, to hold her in his arms. He was glad Jacob and Seth couldn't hear his thoughts. For now, at least.

"Ay, ding dongs, pipe down and throw me another beer," Quil said, "My imprint is coming home and we should celebrate the end of my reign as a miserable bastard."


	3. Let Tomorrow Be Today

Okay so I know I said Claire and Quil would meet this chapter, but I ended up having so much to say that it'll be drawn out into two chapters.

In this one, you'll learn more about Claire, her family, and her magic. The next chapter will be from Claire's POV, too. And then they'll meet. Promise.

**Please read & review!**

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_Los Angeles, CA 6:02AM: Claire_

"Tessa, get the candles and put them at each point," Claire said from the floor. She flipped through her thick, leather-bound grimoire until she found the page she needed. With the small stick of white chalk between her fingers, she drew a pentagram on the dark hardwood floor. Carefully, she connected the points of the star with a circle, saying softly to herself, "Earth, air, spirit, water, fire."

Claire stood up, dusting the chalk off her hands with the front of her old t-shirt. Tessa went around the edge of the pentagram, placing a white candle at the tip of each of the five points. With a slow wave of her hand, the wicks of each candle lit up one by one.

The sun was just starting to rise above the palm trees outside, casting a soft pink hue throughout the sky. Claire tried to take it all in. Their last California sunrise. They had woken up almost an hour earlier to avoid anyone seeing them pack the cars with a line of charmed, floating boxes. And just like that, a chapter of their lives was about to come to a close. There was just one more thing before they could leave.

"Mom!" Tessa called out, pushing her short curls away from her face and giving a huff, "Pee faster so that Claire can cast this spell!"

"It's not like I can charm my bladder to pee faster," Claire's mother, Molly, said in a sing-song voice from behind the half-open bathroom door.

"It's probably in the grimoire somewhere," Tessa muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes before coming to stand next to Claire. Her sister leaned her head against her shoulder. Tessa had never been a morning person, and was in fact more like a very angry bear than a human before she had a cup of coffee. Even after her morning dosage caffeine, Tessa had a quick tongue that dripped with sarcasm and verbal prowess. Her ferocity spilled over into her career, friendships, romances, and spotty but powerful magic. Claire envied her little sister's natural ability to not give a fuck.

Her mother emerged from the bathroom, wiping her wet hands on her worn, ratty t-shirt. Her big amber eyes were always smiling, now with a slight crinkle of crow's feet at their edges as she entered the second half of her forties. She was undeniably gorgeous, with long dark curls and dewy olive skin. She had Claire and Tessa in her very early twenties and, despite having to grow up faster than most, never lost her youthful spark. After becoming pregnant with Claire, she became a non-practicing witch in order to protect herself and her baby. It had worked for the most part, until her marriage had crumbled at the reveal of the magical gifts she had passed along to her daughters. Claire knew that with everything her mother had been through, the beautiful woman had become a master of pretending everything was alright when things were unravelling around her.

"Okay," Claire said, pushing a few loose waves away from her face, "Everyone get in the pentagram before Tessa murders someone."

The three Young women stepped into circle, reaching out to hold each other's hands in their own.

"This better work. Please tell me you've done this spell before," Tessa groaned.

"Well, I've done the reverse of the this spell a few times to get through finals week. Can't be that hard." Claire shrugged. She had used her fair share of magic to get through her undergrad. Magic felt like flexing a muscle. If she didn't use it throughout the day, she got tight, stiff. Her magic was something that seemed to just flow out of her naturally; it was a force she couldn't stop. And she didn't want to stop it.

"Atta girl," her mother said with a wink.

This spell was more advanced magic. The average drive from Los Angeles to La Push was a little over 19 hours. This spell would slightly bend time so that each minute passed by at thirty seconds, effectively cutting their drive in half. She told Quil she would be within La Push limits before 6 o'clock that evening, and she intended to keep that promise.

Claire squeezed her sister's and mother's hand, her eyes closing gently as she focused in. Suddenly the air got cold as she said aloud in a clear, confident voice, "_Winds of time gather round, give us wings to speed our way. Rush us on our journey forward, let tomorrow be today._"

The five candles at each point of the pentagram blew out, an indication that the spell was a success.

"It'll last ten hours, just enough to get us there," Claire said with a small smile, stepping outside of the pentagram.

"Remind me to let you teach me how to be a badass witch," Tessa said before letting out a giant yawn and throwing her arm around Claire's thin shoulders, "I call riding with Claire."

"I call Mango," their mother said happily, the orange tabby circling her feet and giving a soft meow in approval.

After the three women pulled on jeans and leggings, gathered the candles and erased the pentagram in a final sweep of the apartment, and piled into their respective cars, they were on their way north towards Washington. Claire sang along softly to the Top 40 pop song coming through the speakers of her old Toyota as Tessa snored beside her in the passenger seat.

Time moved at an accelerated pace alongside them as Claire sped up the freeway, her thoughts drifting to Quil. She had awoken to her first clue, knowing Quil was sending her on a scavenger hunt before they saw each other for the first time in years. _So like him_, she thought, a smile crossing her lips. Quil's text was directing her to the park they used to frequent when she was a little girl, where she threw many a tantrum on the swing set when it was time for them to leave. She was a spitfire then, and she honestly wasn't sure if much had changed. How he had put up with her for so long was still a mystery to Claire.

And honestly, something she worried about constantly.

Their friendship was the most constant, stable thing in her life besides her magic. Despite the distance, Quil had been there for her through everything. Not just the princess-themed birthday parties years ago, but her parent's divorce, her first heartbreak and every heartbreak after, and all the trials and tribulations in-between. Quil was the best friend she ever had, one of the most important people in her life, even if they hadn't seen each other in years.

But she knew she had to be careful of her secret. Her magic was such a fluid part of her now, in her adulthood, that she worried about slipping up in front of Quil. She had seen first-hand how magic had the power to destroy relationships. She had listened to her mother cry behind closed doors after she had divorced her father, when she thought no one was listening. And according to her mother, Auntie Emily had even stopped practicing magic many years ago, keeping her secret carefully and deeply tucked away from the love of her life. Magic, although a tremendous gift, came at a price. More often than not, for the Young women, that price was love.

The soft morning light filled the sky now, and Los Angeles slowly disappeared behind them. The brushy mountains quickly turned into agricultural fields. Agricultural fields turned into lush green trees. Time seemed to pass by even faster once Tessa perked up. They sang, they danced, and before she knew it, they were passing a sign that said "**Welcome To La Push**".

A patter of rain hit her windshield, a normalcy for an August evening in La Push, WA.

She was home.


	4. The Scavenger Hunt

Alright, everyone, **QUIL AND CLAIRE FINALLY MEET** in this chapter.  
This chapter was super emotional to write for some reason. Now their story gets to really unfold.  
Next chapter will be from Quil's POV.  
**PLEASE read & review!**

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_La Push, WA 4:32PM: Claire_

Claire stepped out of the car, stretching her arms overhead after the long drive. The time-bending spell was a success; the three women and fat orange tabby had arrived in half the time, magic aiding them with a little extra wind beneath their wings.

She looked up at the overlapping tree branches that created a canopy. Although the drizzle had stopped, a few raindrops fell from the dewy leaves and plopped onto her upturned face. She had almost forgotten how wet and green everything was in La Push, a stark difference to the grey concrete and dry sunshine of Los Angeles. The air smelled different, cleaner. The soft light peeking through rain clouds was something she hadn't realized she'd missed so much.

The familiar pale pink house stood before them, surrounded by a white picket fence. The fence was lined with blooming bushes of lavender and rosemary. As she, Tessa, and her mother walked through the gate, Claire pinched off a sprig of lavender and lifted it to her nose. _Lavender for luck_, she thought.

Her grandmother's house was a witch's house through and through. The porch was lined with a variety of wind chimes, which were singing in harmony in the light, chilly breeze. An assortment of flowers, which were too bright and lush to be non-magical, lined the brick pathway that led up to the red front door.

"C'mon, Mango," Claire said, waiting for the tabby to cross in front of her before closing the gate behind them all. Mango's tail affectionately wrapped around her calf before he sauntered into the house, trailing after her mother and sister.

"Looks like Em has your Nan at her house," her mother said, setting down a note that had been left on the kitchen counter and pulling her curls into a topknot, "Which means we have time to settle in." She winked, patting the top of Tessa's head as she turned towards the front door, "You girls come help me get this levitation spell going before it starts to rain again."

Their return to La Push wasn't under the happiest of circumstances, and Claire knew her mother was struggling to hold it together more than she'd like to admit. It couldn't have been easy for her mother, returning to a town she had tried so hard to escape in order to keep herself and her daughters safe from heartbreak, which had been so abundant for them before. Not only that, but their grandmother's cancer had spread and the main priority was making her comfortable. Her grandmother, a strong-willed woman not unlike the Young women that came before and after her, refused all Western and most magical treatments, saying it was time for her to embark on a new adventure.

Claire stepped outside and around the side of her car. She quickly peeked around the mostly-empty street to make sure there were no onlookers. "Alright, Tess, you gotta focus on the box, okay? Picture it in your mind and then say it," she said, nodding towards her sister.

"Okay, okay, okay, I know," Tessa said with a wave of her hands to silence Claire. She closed her dark eyes, her brow furrowing as she concentrated, "_Mobili."_ The cardboard box nearest to them gently lifted into the air, wavering just slightly as Tessa did a little dance of victory.

"Yes!" Claire said excitedly, "Okay, now stay with it, and picture where you want the box to go."

Magic had been a bit harder for Tessa to harness than Claire. It came in powerful bursts, just like her passion and her temper. Tessa's lack of consistency in her magic was a source of frustration, which Claire tried to be sensitive to. There was no doubt in her mind that Tessa was a talented witch, one that you did not want on your bad side. Her first act of magic had been shortly after her thirteenth birthday, where she sent a kid who had made fun of her haircut flying back about 15 feet without touching him. No one had messed with her from that day on.

As Tessa walked back into the house after her floating box, Claire focused her attention on the remainder of the boxes. "_Mobili,"_ she whispered, accompanied by a small circle of her wrist. The cardboard boxes lifted from their spots and slowly made their way into the pink house. Claire remembered how she had spent hours in her early teenage years practicing the beginner version of the levitation spell, by growing and dimming the flame of a candle. Magic was something that got stronger as it was practiced it, weaker as it was stifled. She thought of her mother and Auntie Emily, and the many sacrifices they had made because of their gift. Returning to La Push as a witch, she wondered how much her magic would have to be stifled.

Suddenly there was a crash from inside the house, breaking Claire from her thoughts.

"Everything good?" their mother hollered from the far end of the first floor, near the master bedroom, where she had started to unpack.

"I'm all good!" Tessa called out from the second floor of the house.

As Claire followed the floating boxes to the top of the stairs, she chuckled, seeing Tessa gathering the empty box's contents in her arms, "Hey, when you're done destroying things, can you help me get ready? I gotta meet Quil in like an hour." The words sounded unreal coming out of her mouth.

"My specialty," Tessa said, her eyes lighting up, "Once you're done being a show-off with your boxes, step into my office. And by office, I mean the bigger room with the view of the forest that I'm claiming right now."

* * *

_Alder Park 5:57PM_

_You owe me a beer for making me embark on a scavenger hunt in the rain, _she quickly texted to Quil.

Her phone buzzed with an immediate response, _Deal._

Claire smiled and stuffed her phone into her back pocket.

"Hair down, yoga pants off," Tessa had demanded as she helped Claire get ready with finesse and expertise, quite literally working her magic. While Tessa's spell-casting was inconsistent and spotty, she possessed an aptitude for brewing potions, especially ones of a beautifying nature. She lathered a rose-smelling serum onto Claire's hair that tamed her long, wavy mane despite the frizz-inducing patter of rain falling from the grey August sky. Tessa had given Claire's lashes a quick coat of mascara and said, "You should look just like you, just even more irresistible."

"You know it's not like that between me and Quil," Claire had said as Tessa dabbed a bit of color on her cheeks and lips.

She could see Tessa roll her eyes from a mile away.

Now, Claire stood across the street from Alder Park, the place where she had made so many childhood memories. She and Tessa fighting over who got to go down the slide first, Quil buying them popsicles from the ice cream truck that stopped by, the many times she had fallen and scuffed her knees in the wood chips. She had come here almost every day as a little girl, running around without a care in the world.

The park was empty, probably in anticipation of more rain.

The old swing set was still standing, unchanged from the one she could picture in her memories. She walked over, closing her umbrella before she sat down on the seat of the swing. The old chains creaked as she gently swung back and forth, the toes of her boots dragging along in the wood chips. _Are you taking me on a walk down memory lane, Quil?_, she thought to herself, lips turning up at the familiar smell of rust on her palms from gripping the chains.

Her hands trailed down the chains until her fingers brushed a piece of paper taped to the underside of the seat. The second clue.

Quil's scratchy handwriting bled through the damp piece of paper, which read: _Your favorite book to this day._

A warm feeling swelled in her chest as she grinned at the scrap of paper in her hands. She quickly took her phone from her pocket and texted Quil, _Found the second clue. You're amazing._

_Tell me something I don't know,_ was his response.

* * *

_Lonesome Creek Book Shop 6:23PM_

Claire closed her umbrella and walked into the old book store, the door chiming with a soft _ding _that announced her arrival. She gave a closed-lipped smiled to the store clerk, wiping her boots against the floor mat before gazing around at the familiar sight. The musty smell of old books was pleasant and nostalgic. She trailed her fingertips along the many book spines as she made her way down the long, floor-to-ceiling aisles that created a maze within the store.

Lonesome Creek was one of Claire's favorite places on the res. She often spent her afternoons curled up in one of the many old, leather armchairs scattered throughout the shop with her nose deep in a book. She would get lost for hours in stories, and always left with another armful of books to add to her collection.

She knew exactly what shelf and row to head towards. As she entered the children's section, her eyes scanned the shelf for Silverstein. Finally, her eyes landed on the worn green book. She plucked it from the shelf. _The Giving Tree_.

She leaned her back against the shelf of books behind her as she thumbed through the slightly yellowed pages, remembering the first time she had read the book. She had cried, heartbroken that the tree was left with nothing. Now, she thought its selflessness was a beautiful thing. Her own copy sat in a box filled with books that were waiting to be unpacked.

As Claire reached the very last page, a small piece of paper fell from between the pages and fluttered to the floor. The third clue. She picked it up, unfolding its creases. In the same blue ink as the previous note, Quil had written: _The place we said goodbye._

Claire hastily placed the book back on its shelf and turned on her heel. She hurried out the shop's door, more eager now than ever to see him.

* * *

_First Beach 6:54PM  
_

_Third clue, _was all Claire had texted Quil before tearing down the hard, slightly wet sand. The print of her boots made a trail behind her as she walked closer towards the ocean.

First Beach was covered in chunks of mossy driftwood and large stones, just as she had left it. The sun was just beginning to set, casting brilliant orange and pink tones throughout the pieces of sky that weren't swirling with rain clouds. The waves lapped against the sand, a dark grey color that was so different from the sparkling California ocean she had become accustomed to.

The last time she had been to First Beach was the day they had left for California. She and Quil had walked along the shore side by side in silence, both of them unsure of what to say. Back then, Claire was a new witch just learning how to handle her magical gifts. She remembered the lump in her throat, the burning secret of her magic that she so badly wanted to share with Quil to make her feel less alone. She didn't want to move to California, she didn't want to leave behind the people she loved, she didn't want to parents to separate, she didn't want to face whatever was waiting for her in the next chapter of her life. But she hadn't said a word.

Instead, she had looked up at Quil, her protector and her best friend, and said, "I love you."

"Me, too," he had said. She remembered the sadness in his dark eyes.

_How have I gone this long without him?_, she thought as she neared the tide pools where they used to spend hours collecting seashells. She couldn't tell if the rim of tears stinging her eyes was from the cold breeze or the sudden unearthing of memories.

Claire got as close to the tidepools as she could, the waves splashing the jagged rocks and filling the damp air with the smell of salt. Looking down at the sand, she found an arrow composed entirely of seashells, all different shapes and sizes. Her eyes followed the arrow to the right, and suddenly the world seemed to stop.

There he was, standing a few yards away. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of a denim jacket. She stared at him, feeling rooted to the spot. His crooked grin, his copper skin, his dark buzz cut, his broad shoulders. So familiar, yet something felt different as she took in the sight of him. Their eyes locked.

"Claire," Quil said.

Suddenly, she was sprinting towards him. The soles of her boots dug into the sand as she flew into his outstretched arms. She buried her face into his chest, immediately enveloped in his smell and the heat radiating from his arms as they wrapped around her. He pulled her closer and she clung to him, feeling tears of happiness and relief as they fell down her cheeks.

_Quil._


	5. And A Shot, Too

Here's the next chapter! Next chapter, some shit will go down. But for now, enjoy some Quil & Claire fluff. That's all I'll say :).  
**Please read & review**! It makes me SO happy.

* * *

_First Beach 6:54PM: Quil_

He walked along the damp sand, his mind racing. First Beach was the place they had said goodbye to each other nearly ten years ago. It only seemed fitting that they meet again there.

The last time they had walked this beach together, Quil had been so uncertain of his future. There had never been any cases, at least among their tribe, of shapeshifters who had been separated geographically from their imprint. What would the next day be like without her, and the day after that? Years later, he could definitively say it sure as hell hadn't been easy. Phasing uncontrollably was the way his body and mind seemed to be able to manage the distance between he and Claire. It was the only thing that made him feel close to normal again.

When it all began, he had been one of the last of his friends to make the transition from human to shapeshifter. Jacob and Embry phased before him, and he had spent multiple occasions running through the woods, calling their names, unsure of what exactly was happening around him. He felt abandoned, confused, and a little scared. It wasn't long until he started experiencing changes, physically with growth spurts and internally with anger and aggression that seemed to burst out of nowhere. He wasn't himself; every little thing seemed to set him off. He had even been banned from school multiple times for fighting. It was a stark difference for the calm, gentle, and happy kid he had been before.

When he finally phased, exploding into a pelt of chocolate brown fur, everything made sense. He was _happy_. He could be with his friends again. And for some reason, being a shapeshifter just felt right. He felt more like himself, like it was what he was always supposed to be. He was good at it. When Claire made her departure to California, he spent more time prowling the forests in his wolf form than ever. It kept him grounded. It kept him sane.

He knew that he didn't have much time before he would have to reveal his secret to Claire. It worried him, how she would take it. He had heard stories of how Emily had rejected Sam multiple times before she finally came to accept the truth of what he was. Not just a shapeshifter, but also her imprint.

Quil dug his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket, sucking in a deep breath of salty air to clear his thoughts. When he looked up, he stopped in his tracks, his boots digging into the sand.

He saw a small figure walking towards the tide pools. A warm feeling spread through his chest. She turned to look at him and everything, _everything_ stopped. It was like imprinting all over again. "Claire," he could hear himself say, not realizing her name had even left his lips. Nothing mattered except for the young woman running towards him, her hair flying behind her and her cheeks pink from the cold wind.

As she came crashing into his arms, the deep, empty void he had felt for years seemed to disappear. The anguish, the sadness, the pain started to dissipate. He pulled her in and held her close, as close as he could. It was her. _Claire_. She was what had been missing for so long.

They stayed like that for a long time, his arms wrapped around her, her hands grabbing fistfuls of his t-shirt as she pressed herself against him. He could feel her shoulders racking with sobs, feel the tears soaking through his shirt. He held her tightly, overcome with a wave of relief that he hadn't felt in years. It was like he could breathe again.

Slowly, he felt her shoulders stop shaking, her breath becoming more and more even. Still wrapped up in each other, he pulled away just far enough to look at her, _really_ look at her, for the first time since the decade they had been apart.

Her large, amber eyes peered up at him through thick, dark lashes that were wet with tears. A few of pieces of deep brown hair clung to her cheekbones, slightly damp from the spritz of the waves crashing behind them. Quil reached out a hand and pushed the hair away from her face, tucking the strands behind her ear. In doing so, he noticed the tiny freckles that dotted her face and neck like a fine splatter of paint. Claire had always been a pretty kid; beauty ran in her family with Emily, her mother, and Leah. But looking at her now felt different; he was seeing her in a light that he hadn't anticipated before this moment, even with the many FaceTimes that had kept them connected. Undeniably, she was beautiful. And it caught him off-guard. How had he not realized that before?

Claire was the one who broke their gaze, running her fingers underneath her bottom lids to catch the remaining tears before softly groaning, "Sending me on a scavenger hunt in the rain _and_ making me cry...you're the worst friend ever."

"The first time seeing me in person in ten years," Quil said, shaking his head as a crooked grin spread across his face, "And the first thing you do is insult me?"

"You definitely owe me a beer," Claire sniffled. She pressed her face back into his chest, the rest of her words slightly muffled as she wrapped her arms around him once more, "And a plate of fries. And maybe a shot of tequila for my troubles."

"_You_ are going to be trouble," Quil laughed, pressing his face into her hair as he kissed the top of her head. That's when he noticed it. Her scent. He didn't recognize it. He pulled away and held her at arm's length for a moment, gazing at her with a furrow in his brow. The smell of vampires was so sickeningly sweet that it burned his nose, probably not unlike a stack of syrupy pancakes that had been topped with heavy hand of bleach. His pack had a decidedly earthy scent reminiscent of the forest they ran through. But the light and intoxicating floral scent that Claire carried now wasn't what he remembered.

"What?" she said from parted lips, her eyes searching his face for an answer.

It was definitely Claire, his Claire, there was no doubt about it. Was his nose, and his intensified sense of smell that came with being a shapeshifter, playing tricks on him? Whatever it was, it didn't matter. Claire was home.

"Nothing," he muttered, pulling her back in and tucking her under his arm, "It's cold out here. Let's get you warmed up with that tequila shot."

* * *

_Backwoods Bar 7:49PM: Quil_

Between them sat a heaping plate of fries, two amber-colored beers, and two shots of silver tequila with slice of lime on the rim. Quil watched as Claire picked up one of the shot glasses. She held it out to him and a smile crept over his lips.

"Cheers to everything I want being right here," Claire said. Her hair had dried into long waves flowing down to her mid back. He couldn't help but notice the mischievous look she had in her eyes. He knew it well. It had been there as long as he had known her.

"I'll second that," he said almost inaudibly. Claire didn't know the half of it. He touched his shot glass against hers with a _clink_ and they both knocked the shots back. He watched as Claire winced and shoved the lime into her mouth, chuckling slightly.

Alcohol was burned off quickly by shapeshifters, with their metabolism moving much faster than that of humans. In their early days of shapeshifting, he and Embry had experimented without exactly how much they could drink before feeling its effects. It had taken two full bottles of whiskey each for them to be slightly stumbling over their words and steps.

They sat in his favorite dimly-lit dive bar, in a town just outside of the reservation. There were men playing a game of around-the-world on the dart board in the corner. The billiards table was surrounded by what looking like a triple date, everyone laughing good-heartedly as a girl scuffed the table with her club. A pair of girls had just picked out a thumping pop song from the jukebox in the back. It felt unreal, sipping on beer and sitting beside Claire on a creaky old bar stool. Their knees were brushing, mostly because Quil felt the need to be touching her in some way, almost as if to make sure that she was real.

"Alright," Quil said after shoving a few fries into his mouth, "Tell me about the drive up here. You all got here fast as hell, didn't you?"

Claire seemed to pause for a moment. She grabbed her glass of beer and took a long drink before resting an elbow against the bar, her chin cupped in her palm. She turned to Quil with a soft smile and a sigh, "True, we got here fast."

He raised an eyebrow, but could feel the corners of his lips turn up in a grin. Their game of true and false had been a secret language of theirs over the years, one that they played when it was easier to give a yes-or-no answer rather than a full explanation. Based on the rules of their game, it was Claire's turn to ask a question.

"You've been okay?" she asked, brushing her hair over her shoulder, "Since everything that's happened since I've been gone?"

Quil knew she was, indirectly, asking about the death of his mother. A few, short years had passed since she was taken by a case of undetected pneumonia. His mother had raised him with the help of his grandfather, after his father died in a storm when he was young. After her passing, he had spent days as a wolf, running the forests up and down the west coast in attempt to forget. The only thing that had gotten him back into human form were Leah's alpha orders or an expected call from Claire.

But he had healed since then. It had gotten easier. The pack had rallied around him to ensure that he was taken care of. Claire had called him every day, multiple times a day, to simply be there. Sometimes they just sat on the phone in silence. Sometimes they talked about what had happened. Overall, he had made it out okay.

"If you asked me a few years ago, false." Quil said, running a hand over his short hair, "But now, true."

Claire reached out and touched his arm, her fingers cool against his warm skin. She had a worried wrinkle in her brow as she softly said, "I'm so sorry I wasn't here."

Quil shook his head with a soft smile, "You are now." It was his turn to ask a question. Of the many that were swirling around in his head, there was one that he wanted a definitive answer for, "Are you happy to be home? Back in La Push, I mean?"

"True," came Claire's answer, without hesitation. Her voice seemed strong, certain. She leaned a little closer to him and he got another whiff of the distinct, yet subtle floral smell emanating off her skin. Then came her question, "Did you miss me?"

"True," Quil said softly, his eyes following as the sleeve of her blouse slid down Claire's slender shoulder. Instinctively, he reached out and gently tugged her shirt back into place. His fingers lingered when they touched the bare patch of her lightly tanned skin. It was like he was touching Claire for the first time, noticing all these parts of her that he hadn't realized existed before. His fingers brushed her collarbone and trailed down her arm and her fingers, finally stopping when his palm came to rest on her thigh. Upon realizing that he had taken much too long to fix her blouse, and not sure quite how to explain what had overcome him, Quil motioned to lift his hand away from her leg. Claire's hand gently fell on top of his own, stopping him.

"Quil?!" came a shrill voice, dripping with outrage.

"Ah, wonderful," he breathed, catching a glimpse of Chelsea right behind them. Quickly, he and Claire's hands jumped away from each other. Chelsea stomped up to the bar where he and Claire were sitting, her blonde hair flowing behind her. She stopped before them, crossing her arms over her chest, huffing with disbelief. Quil could only imagine what it had looked like from Chelsea's perspective. After literally running out of their date the previous night, and with how closely he and Claire had been sitting with each other just moments ago, he knew where Chelsea's assumptions were headed. He looked like an asshole.

"So you storm out of this very bar when you're on a date with me," Chelsea said, squinting at him with anger. Her voice started to get squeaky and more high-pitched as she motioned towards Claire, "Just so you can go on a date with _her _the next day?!"

"Look, Chelsea, I-," Quil said, his hands going up in surrender. He stopped mid-sentence as he met eyes with Claire, whose eyebrows raised in amusement before she gave him a wink. What the hell was this girl about to do?

"Oh my GOD," Claire exclaimed, turning to face Chelsea and feigning a look of shock. She reached out and touched one of Chelsea's shoulders, "He did that to you? A gorgeous girl like you? You deserve so much better than that."

"I…," Chelsea trailed off, obviously not expecting Claire to be an ally in her confrontation with Quil, "You know what, you're right. I _do_ deserve better."

Claire flashed a smile to Quil and then cooed to Chelsea, "Don't waste your time chewing out some guy who obviously isn't ready for all you have to offer. It's not worth it."

Chelsea took a step back, turning a pointed look at Quil before she quietly said, "She's right. It's not even worth it. Good luck to you." With that, the blonde turned on her heel and walked out of the bar, her chin held up high. Just before Chelsea reached the door, she stumbled. Quil watched as she headed towards the floor, standing up in preparation to make sure she was alright. At the same time, Claire had reached out a hand in Chelsea's direction. There was a _whoosh_ of cold air, and then suddenly, almost magically, Chelsea was on her feet. The blonde looked down in bewilderment for a few moments. She quickly straightened out her dress and headed out of the bar.

Quil slowly lowered into his chair. He sat there blinking, trying to process what had just happened. Not only had Chelsea managed to catch herself before what could have been an awful fall, but what was about to be a full-on scene in the middle of the bar had been diffused with just a few words from Claire. Even though he had come out looking like a complete and utter dick, it was a confrontation that had been averted. Claire quickly pulled her arms to her sides and let out a sigh of what seemed to be relief before looking up at him with a knowing smile. Quil's hands came together in a slow clap, truly stunned at what had transpired, "I think I owe you a thank you?"

"And you owe Chelsea an apology," Claire said, wrapping her fingers around her glass and raising her beer out for him to cheers, "No judgment because I love you and because I could tell she is _not_ your type at all, but at least text her. Promise?"

"Promise." Quil said, touching his beer to hers.

They both tapped their glasses against the bar before taking a long drink. Claire started to giggle in the middle of hers, setting her beer down and covering her mouth as she laughed harder. He smirked at her, feeling the laughter bubbling up in him as well.

"What the hell do you think you're laughing at, huh?" he said, nudging her with his elbow.

"That shit was _funny_," she said, leaning into him as she laughed.

It had been so long since they had been together, laughing like they were. It felt so good, it felt so right. He traced his hand against Claire's back as she laughed into him, never wanting the moment to end. He couldn't contain the smile growing across his lips.


End file.
